As usual, I was startled awake by Joanna, our Blockalteste's assistant, two hours before the break of dawn. Her now gruff voice sent shivers down my spine as it usually does most days.
I roll out of bed, almost landing on Gretchen, the eldest of the women in our block.
"Careful, child," Gretchen warned in her kind voice, but it was too late. Joanna saw my stumble.
"You lazy Jew!" Joanna shouts loudly in my face. The smell of pork and coffee washes over my face, feeding me the scents of her breakfast. "Langersperre is tomorrow, bright and early. You wouldn't want to be selected, now would you?" Joanna laughed cruelly before moving out of our bunk house.
I was a little worried that Joanna was right about selection. And the fact that Brunhilda, our Blockalteste, didn’t assemble us this morning makes her words seem even more true.
The approximately thirty women in our block quickly moved to the area where the Rapport fuhrer was waiting to take Zahlappell, role call.
“Stellen sie an!” Brunhilda shouted at us. “Line up.”
We all took our places in the two rows that ran down the path. Three other blocks did the same next to ours. Soon the Rapport fuhrer began Appell.
As usual, we all stood up straight hoping that today’s Appell wouldn’t last long. Yesterday’s excruciating Appell lasted eight hours which resulted in ten deaths. Not all of which were natural.
“A-466764, 459-728, 9214, “ the Rapport fuhrer began as she usually did.
My mind began to drift away to a time before I knew this treatment. As a matter of fact, it was the day I first came to know the pain and suffering that so many before me already dealt with.
It was April 1942, barely four months ago. My brother, Jacob, my sister, Rachel, mama, and I were shoved off the train and into a long line of frantic Jews, Poles, Slavs, gypsies, and other people who are considered inferior to the Nazi population at the infamous slave labor and death camp, Auschwitz. As we moved closer to the gates, which I’m sure resembled those in the Christian’s Hell, my mother started to become delirious with fear. Small riots were breaking out all over and the German army seemed to be short-handed.
A few officers began to make rude comments at us, but we just ignored them. At least we tried too.
One officer insulted me directly, and I bet he wished he hadn’t done it. Jacob, who was already furious with the taunts, exploded with anger. He leapt onto the small framed soldier, knocking him off his feet.
Mama, Rachel, and I stood by anxious at what was happening around us. We didn’t know what to do or how to stop Jacob’s endless attacks.
The boy was clearly unconscious by the time Jacob stopped punching him. Then, Jacob did something forbidden. He stooped to their level. Jacob began to suffocate the wounded soldier.
Mama and Rachel stood, watching frantically as someone as kind as Jacob sat there and killed another living person. I couldn’t stand to see it and tugged at Jacob’s firm body, trying to get him to release his grip. When he finally did, the boy was dead.
Jacob stepped back, horrified at the sight of the cuts and bruises he caused. Rachel dragged him farther back in the line as mama tried to revive the boy.
Mama then fell by the soldier’s side, and tried to rouse him. She then began to angrily pummel his limp body.
As she did this, another young soldier ran up to the area of the riot. I caught a glimpse of anguish in his eyes as he happened upon the body of his fallen comrade.
He glanced from the boy on the ground to my mama and his expression instantly changed to one of disdain. He grabbed mama and stared at her with a look of animosity. He threw her into the mud with so much force that the dirt splattered on nearby prisoners. He drew his pistol from his belt and shot a bullet clear through her skull.
I ran to my mama’s lifeless corpse. Tears began to form in my eyes. I shouted in anguish the first thing that came to my mind. “Oh, my poor mama!” I forced my tears to stop so I could stare into the eyes of my mama’s murderer. I found no sign of guilt, like I found in the eyes of Jacob when he killed the soldier. The lack of conscious that I found in him compelled me to do a forbidden thing. I spat at him.
The soldier kneeled down next to me, but I only ignored him as I continued to battle with my tears. My body tensed as I felt the cool metal of his pistol at my temple. I realized that he wanted to frighten me, but I would not allow myself to fear him or the death he could bring to me.
He pulled my head back and unleashed an evil laugh. He pushed me onto my mama’s corpse. He called something that I did not hear before shooting my mother’s body one last time.
I jumped and eyed the man with a glare of pure hatred. I knew than that if I could ever kill anyone, it would’ve been him.
“A-466729!” I jumped at the sound of my number being called off.
“Day-dreaming, are we?” Brunhilda spits in my face.
I lower my head, trying to hide from her as she lectures the block. I force my mind to focus on her words and pray that Brunhilda will forget to punish me.
“And so if any of you show a lack of attention again, I will send you right to the crematorium.” Brunhilda warns. “As for you,”she adds, glaring at me,” I sentence you to one week of hard labor.”
They move on down the line, calling out numbers, inspecting someone every so often. Things seemed to be going fine until prisoner 77-285 is discovered missing.  
Brunhilda marches down the line, shouting orders as she goes. “All of you, stand up straight. If you move at all, you’ll be shot,” she warns. “Except for you,” She says pointing to me. “Joanna, escort her to the trenches.”
Joanna grabs me by my shorn hair and drags me along the muddy pathways.
Even though Joanna gets all this special treatment, I pity her. See, Joanna isn’t really a Nazi. She is as much Jewish as I am. She is a Jew that lacks pride and compassion. They squeezed it out of her by giving her food, nice clothes, and a comfortable bed. And that isn’t even the worst of it. The thing that really takes the cake is that she was once my best friend.
“Heraus! Schneller!” Joanna kept screaming at me. “Damn lazy Jew.”
We finally reach the trenches where Joanna throws me at the feet of the Kapo.
Here’s another one for you,” Joanna explains. “One week, hard labor for this one.”
The Kapo grabs my wrist and takes down my numbers. He hands me a shovel and thrusts me into the trench. Before he can shout at me, I start digging. With nothing else to do, the Kapo simply sends Joanna off, before continuing his work.
Everything seems to be going well, especially for a day in Auschwitz, until the Kapo becomes angry with a young girl down the line.
“Stehen sie auf!” he shouts at the fallen girl. “Get up!”
She took hold of her shovel and used it to prop herself up, but she only collapsed again.
The Kapo began to yell at her, while all the others continued working as if nothing was wrong., but I couldn’t stand to see the overworked girl in such a miserable state.
I ran over to the two and stepped in between them. “Stop this!” I shouted as I hovered over the girl. “Let her be.”
The Kapo laughed at my insolence, but I still stood tall. I stared the man right in the eye.
He seemed shocked to see me still standing there, protecting the girl as if I were her mother, but that still didn’t stop him from slapping me. My jaw snapped to the side and I chocked back a painful cry. Then I did the worst thing a Jew could do to one of them. I slapped him back.
“Jurgen!” another man called from above. I recognized him as the soldier who killed my mother. When he saw me, I think he recognized me too.
Jurgen walked away from us, leaving the girl and I alone. I dragged her to my place and tried to rouse the injured girl. I glanced at her thin face and was struck with recognition.
“Rachel!” I shouted.
She didn’t wake, and I knew I had to get back to work.
The Kapo was replaced so Rachel and I were left alone. When we were dismissed, I took her to see Nadine , a kind nurse at the Revier.